


Out of air

by RoisinDubhCosplay



Series: Just breathe [2]
Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Hospitals, Hurt Jay Halstead, Hurt/Comfort, Jay Halstead Whump, Light Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26976043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoisinDubhCosplay/pseuds/RoisinDubhCosplay
Summary: Jay was fine. A few cracked ribs, some bruises, a headache - he'd had worse. No big deal. As long as he kept the darkness at bay, he was safe. Will and Mouse worried about nothing. - Post 3x01, missing scene of Jay in the hospital after being held hostage by Derek. Some h/c, mentions of PTSD, some Jay/Mouse bromance, brotherly bonding and hints of Lindstead.
Relationships: Jay Halstead/Erin Lindsay
Series: Just breathe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1968604
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	Out of air

Jay shivered as the cold stethoscope was pressed against his chest. He kept his eyes on his surroundings, squinting slightly against the sun. He knew he shouldn’t do it since it made the headache flare up, but truth be told, there had been a moment when he hadn’t been too sure if he’d ever see the sun again. So today he wouldn’t waste another second.

He’d wasted thousands of seconds with Erin, and after everything all he had managed to say was one sentence.

_I’m just glad it was you that they sent in._

There was so much more he’d wanted to say, but everything would have come out wrong, and now she was gone. Again.

“Now can you take a deep breath for me, please?”

Jay grinned wryly and shrugged.

“Sure.”

And he tried. He was okay, after all, he’d told everyone. But he couldn’t quite suppress the quiet wince as he followed the order. His ribs protested vehemently against the strain, and the medic – who had introduced herself as Carol – raised her perfectly trimmed brows.

“That’s enough.” She prodded the bruised area around his lower ribs gently. “We’re gonna need an x-ray on these, but I suppose at least one’s broken. You’re lucky you didn’t puncture a lung.”

In that moment Jay’s eyes fell onto the stretcher and the body bag that were carried out of the mansion, and for a second his breath caught in his throat. His stomach made an unpleasant flip. Involuntarily he clenched his fist. Just one, though – his broken little finger was already wrapped in a thick bandage.

_You’re lucky._

Oh, he was a lucky bastard, always had been. Always got out alive, no matter the mess. He always came out alright.

One way or the other.

Images flashed through his head, of sneering faces and bloodstained knuckles and the barrel of a gun; the sound of fists on flesh and cackling electricity filled his ears. There was a bitter taste on his tongue as he stared at the second stretcher.

He didn’t even know which of them was Derek Keyes. Many had died, taken down when his unit had charged the building. Derek and Kris had been killed by Erin, and Jay thought that to his death he would not forget the sight of her, blood-soaked shirt and cold eyes, emptying a round of bullets in Derek’s chest. To his death he would not forget the feeling of paralysis when he could do nothing but watch.

“Detective Halstead?” Carol’s voice shook Jay from his thoughts. “Did you hear what I was saying? We’ll take you to Med.”

Jay felt his heart hammering against his chest.

“That’s not necessary. I’m fine.”

“Detective Halstead –“

“Jay. It’s Jay.”

A first name basis was always good. He wasn’t a patient. He was Jay. He wasn’t a victim.

“Alright, Jay. Jay, you know I can’t let you go home like that. You’ve got a concussion, broken ribs, and even though you don’t show any signs of internal injuries we cannot rule that out unless we run some tests and monitor your overnight.”

“After what you went through, it’s mandatory to keep you in our sight for at least a night,” the second medic – Jason - added. “I talked to your boss, Sergeant Voight.”

Jay felt a pit forming in his stomach. He shook his head vehemently.

“No, no, you don’t understand, my brother’s a doctor, he’ll look after me.”

It was actually the last thing Jay wanted. He wasn’t sure if anyone had even informed his brother, but he knew for a fact that he did not want to have a brotherly conversation about how he had gotten himself into mortal danger once again.

Will always worried too much, it was unnerving.

Will must never know how he’d screamed.

“If you go home now, you’ll have to sign some forms to clarify that it’s at your own risk.”

Jay heard someone snorting, then Alvin appeared from behind the ambulance.

“Don’t give him that option, he’s stupid enough to seize it.”

“Hey –“

“What would you suggest, I’m not gonna sedate him, I might need a tranq gun.”

“I’m sitting right here, you know?”

It came out more pissed off than he’d intended, and Jay immediately regretted it. His head was pounding, every breath made his ribs ache.

But he was okay.

He flinched when Alvin laid a hand onto his shoulder.

“You look like shit. Go with them, Jay,” he said and gave his shoulder a light squeeze. Jay was aware of the fact that his shoulder was one of the few body parts that were currently not bruised, cracked or broken. If he was honest with himself, he felt like shit, too.

But he was okay.

“You know that Hank will have you on desk duty until you’re cleared, right? You might as well get it over with.”

Damn Olinsky and his instincts.

The prospect of two long weeks of desk duty scared Jay almost as much as a night at the hospital. He couldn’t sit at the desk while everyone else did their jobs. Things had to get back to normal as soon as possible.

Just one night. He’d be okay.

Jay nodded slowly.

“You need company?” Alvin asked, all mocking tone suddenly gone. “I already sent for Mouse to bring you some clean clothes.”

Another nod. Mouse was good. He wouldn’t ask him to talk unless Jay wanted to. They’d been through too much; they knew each other inside out.

Alvin patted his shoulder once more, then kept his stern gaze on Jay as Carol ordered him to lie down. For a moment Jay tried to resist – he was okay, and lying down was for people who were _not_ okay – but ultimately he had to accept his fate. Alvin’s face disappeared as the doors closed, and Carol gave the driver the signal to start the motor.

* * *

Jay focused on the humming of the engine. He tried not to think of the last time he’d been inside a van – bruised, hands tied, gun pointed at his face. He concentrated on the sterile smell, although he usually hated it with a passion. He felt the plastic clip on his index finger, the small sensor that kept track of his pulse. He trained his eyes on Carol who was chatting away, one hand on his arm; he didn’t hear a word she was saying.

The ambulance hit a bump on the road, and Jay cried out in pain before he could help it.

“I can give you something –“

“No! No, I’m fine…” Jay interrupted Carol, though not as firmly as he’d hoped. He blinked against the black creeping in from the corner of his eyes and gritted his teeth. “And just to be clear, I will not be wheeled into the ER. I can walk.”

He didn’t know why it was so important to him. Carol gave him a strange look that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but she nodded after exchanging a glance with Jason.

It wasn’t a long drive. Carol and Jason stayed true to their word and allowed Jay to stand up, but to his annoyance Jay still needed to lean onto Jason for support. His legs were wobbly; the moment he stood up it felt as if knives were plunging into his side. He pressed his lips to a thin line and focused on shallow, even breaths. Inhale, exhale.

He was okay, after all.

The ER was filled with people who were much worse off than he was.

A nurse approached with a file in hand. Carol handed her a few sheets of paper.

“Patient is Jay Halstead, 31, so far diagnosed with concussion, broken ribs, hematomas, multiple –“

“Jay!”

Jay didn’t think he’d ever been more relieved to see Mouse. The younger man skidded to a halt in front of him, a sports bag in hand, ignoring the medical staff around him.

“I brought you some sweatpants and shirts and stuff. Damnit Jay…”

Mouse’s voice trailed off, and Jay saw a multitude of emotions flickering in his eyes. Jay had a good idea of what his friend had been going through. Fighting for your life was one thing, but being helpless while a friend was in danger was something else entirely.

“I’m okay,” Jay replied, because it was the only thing he could say to get that expression off Mouse’s face. He felt the dried blood tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Are you a relative?” Carol asked Mouse, looking from him to Jay and back.

“Colleague. I was working on the case. “

The medics exchanged a look with the nurse, then Jason nodded.

“Get him a room. I’ll page Doctor Choi.” He turned towards Jay. ”Next of kin, let me guess, a certain Will Halstead?”

Jay rolled his eyes and gave a court nod. He liked Choi and he was certain that the doctor wouldn’t bother him too much. There were certain things only a vet understood. He was grateful that Will wouldn’t be his doctor, probably some rule about doctors not treating their kin. But more than anything, he was tired. The sharp pain in his head spiked up whenever he moved his head too fast; he was almost getting used to the constant tightness in his chest and the little daggers pinching his lungs.

“I’ll inform him,” said Jason and handed another file to the nurse. “Get him a bed.”

The nurse, a black-haired woman in her fifties, introduced herself as Susan Jacobs.

Jay sighed when a wheelchair was brought for him. He wanted to say he was fine, he could walk, but the nurse gave him such an intimidating look that he dismissed the idea. He threw a glaring look at Mouse instead.

“Any word to anyone and you’re fired. You know I can arrange that, right?”

Mouse had the audacity to laugh and shrug it off. Jay didn’t really complain, though. It was good to see that smile instead of a frown; his friend had worried for too long.

“I’ll get you to room 202, second floor. Doctor Choi will be with you soon. I suppose you’re in for a CT scan.”

Inhale –one, two, three. Exhale – one, two, three.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I’m fine.”

The prospect of a series of examinations made his stomach churn. He felt Mouse lightly press his shoulder as Susan just huffed.

Room 202 was like any other hospital room. The second bed was unoccupied, which Jay was grateful for. Susan pushed the wheelchair to the bed at the window, then proceeded to offer a hand as Jay rose from his sitting position.

“The doctor will be here any second. Sit down on the bed. How do you feel?”

Jay obliged, careful not to wince as the movement made his ribs ache. He blinked against the blackness creeping in.

“I’m okay.”

He played with the hem of his shirt. There was blood on the sleeve; the collar was stiff from the dried blood and scraped against his skin. Although the shirt was only partly closed, he felt it pressing against his skin like sandpaper. He rubbed his right wrist and thought he could still feel the duct tape cutting into the flesh. He gritted his teeth – inhale, exhale – and swallowed down the bile rising in his throat.

“Mr. Halstead?”

He flinched when Susan touched his shoulder.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”

_Inhale, exhale._

The blackness closed in on him; his stomach clenched. He didn’t even think he had anything to throw up, it was stupid, really, and he pressed his lips shut and tried to force air through his nose. A metal basin appeared under his chin. Someone was rubbing his back, mumbling words that didn’t penetrate the thick veil of blackness. He started to retch; the strain on his stomach and ribs made his eyes water, but it was all for nothing anyway. He spat out the bitter taste on his tongue and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on Mouse’s hand between his shoulder blades instead of the way his brain wanted to burst out of his skull.

“It’s alright, Jay. You’re gonna be alright.”

Of course I am, he wanted to reply, it was just some puking, he’d had worse sickness during basic. But for endless minutes he couldn’t speak, breathing was hard enough. It seemed to take forever until his breathing was somewhat regular again and his stomach calmed enough for him to carefully back away from the metal basin.

When he lifted his gaze, he found himself face to face with Doctor Choi.

“I don’t usually greet people like this,” Jay wheezed, one arm wrapped around his abdomen in a subconscious way of protection. He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his other hand and let out a shaky breath. “Well, that was unpleasant.”

It made Mouse chuckle and Doctor Choi raise the corner of his mouth in amusement.

“So Jay, I got your file here. From what your sergeant gave us, we’re dealing with –“ he ran a finger down a list that Jay couldn’t see, “- possible head trauma after repeated blows to the head, bruised and most likely broken ribs due to blunt force trauma, a broken finger, and electroshocks.”

Jay exchanged a glance with Mouse who suddenly looked a little green around the edges.

“I’m okay. I’ve had worse.”

It didn’t even hurt that much anymore. He just had to take careful breaths and fight against the nausea that lingered on the edge of his consciousness.

“Can you take off your shirt, please?”

Ultimately, Jay just watched as Susan opened the buttons for him, then clenched his teeth when he moved his shoulders in an attempt to shrug the shirt off.

“Hang on, I got you.”

Susan gently stripped the shirt from his shoulders, then retreated to let Doctor Choi step forward. Mouse was standing a few feet away. It was almost comical how much he averted his gaze to not look at his injuries; even from the distance Jay could see the troubled look in his eyes.

God, he hated that look.

The standard procedure was way too familiar to Jay. Dutifully he followed the small light of the flashlight with his eyes, read the random numbers and letters on the board and answered the usual questions.

“No cognitive impairment,” Doctor Choi said, then proceeded to examine the numerous bruises on Jay’s ribs. “I don’t think a CT scan will be necessary, unless things change for the worse, which I don’t expect. From the looks of it, you were lucky.”

It was the second time someone used the word.

Jay just nodded dutifully. Yes, lucky indeed. Lucky to have his team to get him out when he messed things up.

“I’d like to take an x-ray of your ribs, just to be safe. And we’ll hook you up on a heart monitor since I’m a little bit worried about the shocks.”

The sound of current zapping from the taser echoed in his Jay’s ears and mingled with the faint sound of his screams. He remembered the airport; he thought he could still feel the short sting followed by a wildfire coursing through his body.

“Are you listening?”

He was startled by Susan’s hand on his shoulder. In her left hand she held a cup of water that she handed to him.

“You must be thirsty. There’s more where that came from, and you’ll get something to eat in a minute.”

Things were getting back to normal if he could drink and eat. It was the small things, after all. He was fine.

“And then I’ll need you to fill this within the next couple of hours.”

Jay stared at the second, empty plastic container for a solid three seconds.

“Erm – what?”

“The lab needs a urine sample to make sure your kidneys are functional.”

“Oh.”

Jay was a soldier; he wasn’t intimidated by such matters. It was perfectly normal to talk about it.

He was _not_ a patient.

He was fine.

He took the plastic vessel from Susan and placed it onto the table.

“Is that all?”

Dr. Choi wrote something down on a paper that he put into Jay’s file.

“I’m prescribing you some medication to help with the pain. Don’t even try to refuse it!” he added when Jay opened his mouth to object. “X-rays are scheduled in an hour. More than anything, you need rest. Give your body some time to heal. Those things need time.”

He emphasized the last part, and Jay had a notion that he wasn’t just talking about the physical effects of his encounter.

But he was wrong. This wasn’t like the time after Afghanistan. He hadn’t lost anyone; only the bad guys had been killed, and it hadn’t even been messy.

The image of Erin, with her shirt basically drenched in Kris’ blood, flickered before his eyes.

But still.

“Can he put his clothes on now?”

Jay had almost forgotten that Mouse was still there. Now his friend stepped forward again. He seemed to have regained his composure; his eyes weren’t as troubled as before. After a nod from the doctor, Mouse handed the bag to Jay. Susan pointed at a curtain in the corner of the room.

“You can get changed in there. Just call if you need assistance.”

“I think I can manage.”

“Jay –“

“Damnit Mouse, I’m not –“

_Weak._

“- sick.”

He wasn’t. He was fine.

His hands were only shaking a little when he unzipped his pants, and the dizziness came and went within seconds as he bent down to take off his socks. He caught a glimpse of himself in the small mirror.

Jay placed a finger onto the bruised area around his left eye. He pressed lightly, even though it hurt. Pressed a bit more and bit down the wince that threatened to escape. He could deal with pain. He was stronger than that.

The blood that had dried on his brow was gone; one of the medics must have wiped it off. He couldn’t even remember. 

His chest and stomach were a jigsaw puzzle in shades of pink and violet and blue. He carefully pressed his good hand onto his ribs. Felt the rise and fall of his chest and the beating of his heart. He ignored the strain on his skin whenever his ribcage moved. He tried to block out the echoes of bone hitting flesh and the sound of electricity.

He was breathing. Shallow and painfully, but he was still breathing and standing tall.

“Jay? You alright in there?”

He’d been weak before, but it wouldn’t happen again.

“One second!” he replied, leaning against the wall as he put on his sweatpants. He fetched the hoodie from the bag and braced himself before he put it on, slowly, biting his lip as he moved in just the wrong way and pain flared up in his back; he pulled it over his head and blinked against the temporary darkness, something got stuck and for a moment he couldn’t move, the darkness lingered and his breathing hitched, he couldn’t succumb to the blackness and the monsters lurking in its corners, not now, not –

_Inhale – one, two, three. Exhale – one, two, three._

The light blinded him for a second and the tiny daggers moved again in his skull. But it was better than the black mist shrouding his vision.

Jay pulled back the curtain. Mouse and Nurse Jacobs were waiting, one with worry written all over his face, one immediately stepping forward and taking him by the arm.

“You heard what the doctor said. Two hours until your appointment with the radiologist. Until then, I suggest you get some rest.”

As if on cue, Jay yawned. He realized he hadn’t really slept in 24 hours, and if he was completely honest, he hadn’t slept that well for quite a while now. Ever since Erin had left, he thought. Things had been different ever since. And after the last 24 hours he wasn’t tired, he was dead on his feet.

That’s why he didn’t protest when Susan guided him towards the bed. The mattress was standard issue, too soft for Jay’s liking. They were always too soft.

It feels like you’re falling right through it, a comrade had once said, and Jay couldn’t have said it better. It was a soldier thing, he supposed.

Today, he couldn’t care less.

He let his body sink into the marshmallow mattress, hissing quietly as some of the bruises on his back protested even against the light touch. Those were a reminder of the fight with Derek, when he’d crashed to the ground several times and fallen backwards into a cupboard, too.

“Here, take these,” Susan said and pointed to a small plastic cup with two pills next to the cup of water. “It’s ibuprofen, it’ll help with the pain.”

Jay wouldn’t bet on it, but he obliged. He let his head fall back against the pillow and immediately his eyelids became as heavy as lead.

“I’ll check in later, okay?”

Mouse squeezed his shoulder lightly, brows creased and mouth firmly set, the worry so evident on his face that it made Jay want to punch something. He was fine. Just tired. He didn’t say any of the sort, of course, but nodded and forced himself to a smile.

“Thanks man.”

And he meant it; he really appreciated his friend’s support. He just couldn’t deal with that look on his face.

He wondered if he’d had the same look when he’d tried to pull Mouse out of his personal post-war hell.

He watched Mouse leave, then allowed Susan to attach the pads to his chest that were connected to the heart monitor beside his bed.

Jay remembered the last time he’d had some sort of wiring attached to his chest; he recalled the slight tug when they’d ripped it off just before he’d fallen into blackness.

This was _not_ like the airport.

“Looking good,” Susan commented and closed the curtain. “You may want to keep the light out for a while, with the concussion and all. Get some sleep if you can. If you need anything, just push that button and I’ll be here in a flash.”

Jay’s hand found the small device with the red button.

“Push the button. Got it.”

Susan left after one last check of the pads and the wiring.

His eyelids dropped. It was stupid to sleep, he had x-rays in less than an hour.

As a soldier, he could sleep whenever and wherever he wanted, every opportunity was taken because you never knew when you’d get the next chance. They’d all learned that pretty quickly.

He shifted a little on the mattress, trying to find a position that didn’t put pressure on any of his bruises. Finally he settled on almost comfortable and thanked the pharmaceutical industry for pain killers. From the corner of his eye he saw the heart monitor that tracked his every heartbeat.

The room was quiet but for his own, still somewhat labored, breathing.

His thoughts drifted to Erin. They often did when he couldn’t sleep, but today it was different. They had barely spoken, after, and he didn’t know what to make of the whole situation. She’d saved his life, and when he’d been brought into the room and their eyes had met there had been something… something that wasn’t just worry for a partner, he knew that much.

How could he be so sure?

Maybe he’d misunderstood. She’d been worried, sure, they all had, he supposed. Had it been the other way round, he would have been worried sick.

Jay stared at the ceiling, fighting the urge to allow his eyes to close. It was probably less than 90 minutes until his appointment for x-rays, it would be stupid to fall asleep now.

He ignored the tiny voice inside his head that mocked him for his fear.

Jay hated his nightmares. He remembered the last one, back in Derek’s house, when he’d been so tired he’d let his guard down for a moment. He never knew what might trigger them, but today he had a very distinct notion that the past events might affect him in a bad way. It was something he would never admit to anyone, though. He had mastered the art of keeping these things private. Mouse was the only one who really knew about them, and they had an unspoken deal of only ever talking about it to each other, because they were the only ones on the team who understood.

Will was the only other person who knew, because he’d been there during those first months after the tour. They’d lived together, back then, but that was long ago and they hadn’t spoken about it ever since.

There was nothing to talk about, anyway; these scars were a part of his life, and eventually he’d get used to them, too.

He had to focus on something else. Again, his thoughts drifted to Erin. He wondered what had made her come back. Had Hank contacted her, or had she returned on her own? He recalled their last conversation outside the club. It had sounded like a goodbye, but it hadn’t felt like it. He remembered his own words, honest and true and well, almost soppy; he had let his guard down just a little, and somehow, it had been enough.

He hadn’t been able to protect her, though. Again and again the memories played before inner eye; of the flicker of fear in her eyes when they’d dragged him away, of his own desperate yet futile attempt to keep Derek in check, anything to keep him away from her as she fought for her life against Kris, of the icy chill running down his spine when Derek raised his gun at her. All he could do was watch, and he’d never felt more helpless in his life.

No matter how hard he tried to think of something else, it always came down to that simple, scary truth.

Jay flinched when the door opened.

“Damnit Jay, what the hell happened?”

The annoyed words didn’t do much to mask the worry in his brother’s voice. Will crossed the distance between the door and the bed with three long strides, only to stop abruptly before Jay. For a moment he just stood there and Jay felt his eyes scanning his body, focusing on his bruised face and tracking the wires of the heart monitor, then Will laid a hand on his shoulder. It was a gentle touch where normally he would have squeezed hard.

“Damnit Jay, what happened?” he repeated, softly this time.

The mattress shifted when Will sat down on the edge, and Jay plastered on his best smile.

“Drug bust gone wrong. You know it comes with the job description.”

Will frowned and shook his head.

“I’ve read your file. I think ‘gone wrong’ is a bit of a euphemism here.”

“Does it matter? I’m alive, they got me out.”

Jay realized he’d chosen the wrong words when Will’s face turned pale.

“’Got me out’? For God’s sake, Jay –“

“I’m fine.”

“Oh screw that!” Will didn’t even need to yell. His voice was dripping with emotion, worry and anger alike. “I was with a patient for the last couple of hours. And the first thing I hear when I’m finished is, ‘Dr. Halstead, it’s your brother.’ Do you have any idea how that feels, Jay? For a moment there I thought she’d tell me you’re dead. _Dead_ , Jay. It was worse than the last time, and the next time will be even worse, so don’t brush it off with ‘I’m fine’. Just don’t.”

Instinctively, Jay reached out his hand. He found his brother’s wrist and held it; he could feel it shaking ever so slightly.

“I was undercover. Things went south, they kidnapped me, held me ransom – my life for the CI files. It didn’t go as smoothly as planned, there was a fight, but in the end they ended up in body bags, not us. I mean, me and Erin,” he added when he noticed Will’s enquiring look. “They sent her in to hand over the files. She saved my life.”

Will let out a shaky breath and squeezed Jay’s hand in return. He didn’t let go for a while, and Jay appreciated the gesture.

“I can’t believe no one informed me,” Will mumbled through clenched teeth. “I’ll have a word with your boss about this.”

“Don’t. It was less than 24 hours, nothing –“

“Are you fucking kidding me? Just one hour is enough. Something like that happens to my brother, I wanna know!”

Jay huffed and shook his head. Will certainly did not want to know. There were things he had to keep at work.

“It’s alright. The team’s taking good care of me, don’t you worry.”

He was fairly certain that Will wasn’t completely reassured. He couldn’t stand any more questioning, so he changed the subject.

“Don’t you have to work?”

“Nice try. I took the rest of the day off.”

Jay rolled his eyes. As much as he loved his brother, he didn’t need him at his bedside for the rest of the day. Before he could say that out loud, though, the door opened again.

“Ready for your x-rays?” Susan nodded in Will’s direction. “Doctor Halstead, good to see you. Don’t worry, your brother is going to be alright.”

She turned to Jay.

“Radiology is one floor down.”

“I can –“

“You will not walk. I’m not having that discussion again, young man!”

Jay could see his brother smirking, and he huffed in exasperation when Susan brought the wheelchair to his bedside. God, he hated that thing. He sat up on his bed, suppressing the groan that rose in his throat, and brushed off Susan and Will as they tried to help him into the wheelchair. He was already feeling better. He didn’t need support.

His feet hit the floor and he stood up, steadying himself with one hand on the handle of the chair. He blinked against the dizziness and the sharp pain emerging in his chest. Quickly, just to get it over with, he sank down onto the chair. A bit too quickly, and this time he couldn’t suppress a quiet “Ouch”.

“Damnit Jay.”

Will seemed to say that a lot lately.

His brother took it upon himself to push the wheelchair. Jay thought about saying something funny, a comment on Will in a nurse’s scrub, anything to diffuse the tension. He couldn’t see Will’s face anymore, but he knew that he was still troubled.

The radiologist turned out to be a man in his mid-50s who introduced himself as Doctor Riley. Will acknowledged his colleague with a slight nod.

“Alright, detective, let’s check on your ribs. Do they hurt? Any sign of injury?”

Jay chuckled humorlessly.

“I can’t see any bone sticking out, that’s for sure. Hurts a little, though.”

He avoided Will’s stern gaze. They both knew that he tended to underrate when it came to pain.

“Take off your sweater, please. Doctor Halstead, you may stay, if your brother allows it, you’ll just need a vest.”

For a moment Jay actually contemplated sending Will away. He had a bad feeling about this.

The bad feeling proved true when Will stayed and watched Jay take off his hoodie. Jay heard his sharp intake of breath and immediately regretted his decision.

“Fuckin’ hell, Jay. Fuck.” Will’s face was white, then red, and he looked as if he wanted to punch someone while his gaze travelled across Jay’s bruised torso and finally rested on his equally bruised face. “I’m gonna kill Voight. How could he – why didn’t he – I mean, fuck –“

“I’m fine.”

Jay had lost count on how often he’d said these words. Apparently, this time had been one too many. Will let out a shaky breath and, after one last look at Jay, stormed out of the room. The door closed with a bang and Jay flinched.

Doctor Riley cleared his throat.

“Shall we?”

* * *

The x-rays confirmed one broken rib, two cracked. Nothing life threatening, Doctor Riley said, and Jay found himself back in his hospital bed with a stabilizing bandage and a strict order to keep it still for the time being.

Will was gone.

Jay pressed the back of his head against the pillow. He should never have allowed Will to stay. He was overprotective. He didn’t understand that his job with the police came with certain risks, just like the army.

He could have died today.

But he hadn’t. He hadn’t. He was alive and he was going to be alright.

He was tired.

His body had finally stopped aching, thanks to the medication. Apparently that was the signal to shut off. Jay fought against his eyelids dropping closed, but with every blink it became more difficult to will his eyes to open again. He was vaguely aware of Susan coming in to check on his heart monitor again, but her voice was already muffled by the blackness creeping in.

He’d welcomed it, back there, not so long ago.

He fought against it now, but to no avail.

_His wrists are hurting. He can feel cold metal pressing into them, slicing at the skin until it’s raw._

_He can’t see. The blackness, he wanted it, but not like this. No, no, not like this._

_The blow comes out of nowhere, and it drives the air right out of his lungs. He can feel the pieces of his broken bone grate against each other; it makes him sick. There are noises, voices, and he turns his head, breath hitching in his throat, he can’t see, why can’t he see? He calls out, but no sound leaves his mouth; who’s there?_

_A cackling sound, the air is vibrating with electricity, and he tries to move, he pulls at the chains, hears them rattling and feels the blood flow down his arms._

No, no, that is not what happened.

_His body lights up in flame, the fire spreads through his veins, and a silent scream rips from his throat. Suddenly the light is there, bright, too bright; the fire is everywhere, and somewhere beyond the flames there’s a figure, a boy._

_Help, he cries, unheard. The boy comes closer, the flames climb higher. Help me, he cries, silently. Tears are cool on his burning skin._

_He knows the boy, and suddenly he can’t breathe, can’t speak. I’m sorry, he whispers. Forgive me. Forgive me._

No, that’s not –

_The boy is so close, gazing at him with his dark eyes. His mouth forms words that echo in his ears. You deserve this. The fire eats away his skin, and before him the boy crumbles to ash, too._

_The scream rips from his throat, and is cut short when he inhales the fiery air. No, no, not like this, please, I didn’t mean to – I didn’t – couldn’t –_

_The flames crawl up his throat, his mouth; he feels the skin boiling and smells the flesh burning, the one smell he’ll never forget._

_Please, no –_

“Jay!”

_No, stop –_

“Jay, Jay, it’s alright, snap out of it!”

His eyes flew open.

There was a weight on his shoulder and something pulled at his wrist. Jay found himself gasping, fighting down the panic that was spreading through his every nerve.

“Are you with me, Jay?”

Will.

Jay’s body was shaking as he settled his gaze onto his brother. He realized that Will was holding him, one hand on his right wrist, one hand on his shoulder.

“Wha- what happened?” Jay asked, voice raw and too quiet; he felt the wetness on his cheeks and turned his face away.

The pressure on his body decreased. Will let go of his wrist, but the hand on his shoulder remained. A light touch, just enough to show he was there.

“You had a nightmare, Jay. Just some bad dream.”

Jay pressed the back of his head against the pillow. He forced himself to take even breaths and avoided his brother’s look. Just some bad dream. He was still trembling, and to his horror his eyes were glazed over. When he closed them he could see the kid. He still heard the sizzling sound of flames and the echo of his screams.

He felt sick.

“Jay –“

“I couldn’t do anything.” The words left his mouth before he could stop himself, and he proceeded to face the wall instead of his brother. “They beat me, and there was nothing I could do. Could’ve killed me like a fuckin’ pig, and they – they laughed, and it hurt, and I was weak. I almost broke.” His voice cracked a little, but he couldn’t stop. “I told them Voight’s name and if I hadn’t, they never could’ve called him and he never would’ve sent her, but he did and Erin almost got herself killed.”

It was even worse when he said it out loud. For a moment the sound of his own ragged breathing was the only thing heard in the room.

“I can’t keep ‘em safe. And I – I can’t have her blood on my hands. There’s too much of it as it is, and it – it won’t come off. Never comes off, Will.”

Instinctively he clenched his fist.

He flinched when Will squeezed his shoulder.

“It wasn’t your fault, Jay. What happened over there – the kid in Kandahar, the ambush – none of that was your fault.”

The echoes of their screams made his head want to explode. He could smell the blood and smoke; he saw the lifeless eyes staring up at him, accusingly, but broken all the same. He’d never forget the sight of the red-stained, once blue jersey.

They’d played soccer just the day before.

A choked sound escaped from deep within his chest, and his fingernails dug into the ball of his hand.

“If she had died – if she had died because of me –“

“But she didn’t. She didn’t, Jay. And neither did you.” There was a subliminal tremor in Will’s voice that Jay hadn’t heard before. “You weren’t weak, Jay. I know you weren’t. You’re the strongest person I know. And I’m – I’m sorry for the way I acted earlier. It’s just… sometimes I forget how dangerous your job is, and I was so mad. It just hit me that – that I could have lost you today. And Jay, I can’t. I can’t lose you.”

A shadow flickered across Will’s eyes, like a ghost haunting the soul hidden behind the familiar irises. Jay bit his lip; he had never really thought about the other side of the coin. He’d never known the feeling of dread coming from every unknown number calling on the landline; he’d written down Will’s name as next of kin at the PD without ever thinking of the consequences for his brother.

“You won’t lose me. Not like that.” Jay took a shuddering breath, wincing slightly as he did. “I promise.”

They both knew it was an empty promise. But still Will’s frown softened and the shadow in his eyes vanished. It was something he needed to hear, and if that was what it took to help his brother sleep at night, Jay would make the promise again any day.

“If you ever wanna talk about what happened, I’ll be there. Just call me. Or anyone,” Will said quietly.

Jay nodded and replied, “I will.”

It was another promise both knew he wouldn’t keep. There were certain things that he had to keep to himself, and he had to deal with them on his own.

He knew how to do that. He’d done it before and he’d do it again, they were both well aware of that. Jay had seen it a dozen, a hundred times, in soldiers and officers, men and women; it was the part of the job description everyone signed without thinking twice about it.

“So, Erin’s back, huh?”

The change of subject brought a smile to his face. He nodded, tiredly yet content. He’d never really spoken to Will about her leaving – it was private, after all, and he thought that Erin surely wouldn’t want him to lay it all open. Her family, her past, Nadia – it was all part of a puzzle that wasn’t for the public, maybe not even for him. But of course Will knew that she had left, and apparently he had drawn his own conclusions about her and Jay.

“Maybe she is, yeah.”

“That’s good.” Will’s hand was on his lower arm, squeezing slightly, and Jay nodded again.

“It sure is.”

His eyelids dropped close; Will said something in return, but Jay didn’t hear it anymore as he allowed the blackness to creep in again. It would be alright, he told himself. One way or the other.

He’d lived through worse, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not so well-versed in the One Chicago universe so I made up most characters in the hospital. I also don't know much about hospitals and the procedures (fingers crossed I won't find out any time soon) so this is pure fiction with no claim for accuracy.  
> Not a native speaker so feel free to point out any butchering of the English language.


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